For Restful Death I Cry
by icefire-lioness
Summary: Inspired by Shakespeare's Sonnet #66 Sir Nicholas is stuck in the twilight state between death and life, and he must make his choice quickly. To die forever, or stay on as an imprint of himself? The decision will all come down to love.


_**AN**: Written for Jessi_Rose's Shakespeare Ships Challenge! Whoo! Ok, so the sonnet this was inspired by was sonnet #66, which is part of the Fair Youth sequence. Obviously my first response would be to write slash BUT Jessi gave me a pairing (Sir Nicholas/Helga Hufflepuff) and I had to go by that. Plus, I kinda like it. :P Hope you enjoy!_

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As the last heavy slice of the axe rings through the air, the searing pain begins to recede. It may surprise how long it takes one to die, for the feelings and the nerves in the body to separate from the mind. For hours I have been hacked at – the sinew, muscle, skin, bone, all of that which makes up my physical, being cruelly pulled and torn at with the metal they chose.

Listen, listen, the heart is still beating, blood pumping through the veins that I once called my own. No longer are we connected, for I do not look from those marbled eyes – no, now I see all, the crushed and half limp body across the stained block, the man in black with his dull axe glinting with blood, cloth mask pulled over his eyes, nose, mouth; two holes there for him to see out, ready to deal the death blow.

A little way away, crouched in the dust, her golden dress ballooned around her, is my beloved, crying bitterly. I wish to console her; put my hand on her shoulder and let her cry onto my skin. But if I were able to do that, she would not be crying, and there the irony lies.

Terrible, the death of a loved one – worse to watch the reaction from the other side, unable to do anything, to say anything. Still, the dark has not captured me yet. I am, for the moment, suspended, with two choices ahead of me. I can choose to pass, go onto the next place – the big adventure. Or, I could stay on the earth, walking as a print of myself, insubstantial, but still with the ability to converse with those who are living.

The decision will prove to be a difficult one – for where am I to take my cues? Now, with no-one to tell me how to choose, the decision is completely mine. I cannot make believe that this will not affect me forever, for it is obvious to me that it shall. So – the living world, or the next mystery? Which to choose? The choice lies in my value of this place. So many things to love – sunsets, skin, kisses, love – Helga, oh, she!

But I also loathe so many aspects of it. How does the idea of men appeal to me? This way they live – rewarding the twisted rogues and letting the true heroes moulder in the gutter, or worse, recognising their worth and throwing it aside in any case. The disregard for people in this place fills my heart with poison. I cannot stand it; the gentile darts in conversations, the murder of innocents, the lack of emotion and empathy, day after day.

But oh, oh…to leave my love alone – I could not do that. We knew each other only once before my death (planned as the execution was), but it was the most amazing, beautiful moment of my short life. There were new stars in the sky from the very exquisite pain of it – that much power, it is true, love holds. Ah, my love – so everything. Her spun gold hair on pale skin, the way her eyes sparked with such life…she was otherworldly in her very existence. She was ethereal; she was _mine_.

Holding her was akin to holding clouds; so ephemeral, yet the softness of her was the very evidence that she existed. The comfortable silences we shared, so like friends, punctuated with energetic conversation. She made me laugh.

If I had a heart now, it would twist in regret at the time we might have had. Could still have…

But the decision is mine, and mine alone. To stay in this world that I find so abhorrent? Or to leave the woman I love so deeply that I felt sometimes that my very soul was on fire? The sweet pain of it, the sweet pain of her. To stay or to go?

There is no choice, not really. For who could leave this? One would have to be heartless, and though I am, at this moment, literally without a heart, I find myself thinking that the heart must truly reside in the soul, for why else would I make the decision to stay?

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_**AN**: I really WOULD appreciate it if you were to review. Honest. *winning smile*_


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